


The Whole Fruit Basket

by al-the-remix (only_blue)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Food Porn, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25034677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_blue/pseuds/al-the-remix
Summary: "The watermelon thing, do you think I could actually crush one with my thighs?"He looked down at the bare expanse of Sid’s quads, easily twice the size of a regular man’s, his skin flushed and wet from rubbing down with the towel. He could probably crack Zhenya’s head open with those things if he tried hard enough.
Relationships: Sidney Crosby/Evgeni Malkin
Comments: 36
Kudos: 134





	The Whole Fruit Basket

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to sevenfists for betaing!

"So, do you think I could do it?"

Zhenya grunted as he scrolled through the UFC app on his phone. There was another event coming up and he wanted to make sure his bets with Genya were winning ones. Sid kicked his ankle and Zhenya scowled up at him. He was slouching in Sid's locker waiting for him to towel off; Sid had promised him access to his pool after practice and Zhenya was ready to collect.

"The watermelon thing, do you think I could actually crush one with my thighs?"

He looked down at the bare expanse of Sid’s quads, easily twice the size of a regular man’s, his skin flushed and wet from rubbing down with the towel. He could probably crack Zhenya’s head open with those things if he tried hard enough.

“So what do you think?” Sid prompted.

He knew it would take very little to push Sid over the edge. Zhenya looked back down at his phone, keeping his voice flat and uninterested. “No, shell too thick. It’s a story, like an old woman’s tale.”

Sid was silent as he wiped the rest of the way down, but his face was all twisted into a pinched expression like a sour dumpling.

"I bet you I could."

 _Got him,_ Zhenya thought. Now to stick the landing. "Nothing of yours I want," he said, which was of course a lie, but he had to play it cool.

“If it doesn’t work I’ll let you use my pool for the rest of the summer.”

“You let me anyways,” Zhenya countered flatly.

Sid pursed his lips. He was terrible at bets and Zhenya knew it.

“Fine, okay, but if you lose you have to eat all of it.”

Zhenya snorted. As if that was even a challenge.

+

Sid stood there like a produce aisle bouncer, with his arms crossed, the brim of his hat pulled low, and his black Oakleys shoved on his face as Zhenya squeezed watermelons experimentally. He had no idea what the metric for ripe watermelon was. Maybe it was by weight? Zhenya picked up two and tried to measure them against each other, but couldn’t tell the difference.

“Is it supposed to be soft?" he asked Sid, holding one out. “You feel?"

Sid's eyes were inscrutable behind his glasses, but the corner of his mouth twisted up in amusement. “Stop feeling them up and just grab one."

Zhenya leered and started drifting the melons closer to his chest. Sid huffed the way he did when he wanted to laugh but was trying to be _responsible_ —or as Zhenya defined it, _boring—_ and picked up their basket. “Just take one with a yellow spot, those are supposed to be the good ones,” Sid said, and turned to walk away.

Zhenya grabbed a melon at random and hurried to drop it unceremoniously into their basket beside a bag of sunflower seeds he’d put in there so it looked less--well, however it was they might look.

Sid put the sunflower seeds and their watermelon through the self checkout counter. “You know, we used to cut these up and soak them in vodka and lemon juice in the Q.”

Zhenya was pretty sure everyone had done that at least once. “That’s what we use it for if you can’t crush.”

“Oh, I’m going to crush it,” Sid said, his smirk warping into a full-on cocky grin. “I’ll meet you at my place, I’ll give you a show you won’t forget.”

Zhenya had no doubt about that.

+

"So, is there a technique to this or do I just go for it?" Sid asked.

They were sitting in the grass in Sid’s backyard. Zhenya had put a towel down for Sid to sit on and catch the broken pieces of fruit, but he didn’t really know how much of a difference it would make in the end. Zhenya resigned himself to the fact that he’d still probably be eating watermelon pureed by Sid’s thighs out of the grass.

Zhenya pulled up some video clips on his phone. There was a compilation video of buff women successfully cracking watermelons in two with their bare thighs. Zhenya would be lying if he said he didn’t find it an odd turn-on. He looked to Sid’s thighs; maybe it wasn’t all that big of a surprise. He wondered how much he’d have to pay Sid to wedge himself into shorts that small and tight.

“I don’t know, Sid,” Zhenya said, mock-serious. “Think they’re bigger than you.”

“What? Let me see,” Sid said, leaning in and nosing his way into Zhenya’s space to get a good look at his phone screen.

Sid snorted, sticking the watermelon vertically between his thighs and mimicking the position he’d seen in the video: leaning back on his hands and crossing his ankles. “This is going to be a piece of cake,” he said, and Zhenya watched his quads bunch as he began to flex.

Zhenya surreptitiously filmed him, but Sid either didn’t care or was too distracted trying to work the watermelon until it cracked to pay attention. Sid was getting sweaty and pink, grunting with exertion as he relaxed and repositioned the watermelon to try again.

“Hmm, not so easy,” Zhenya teased, reaping this for as much as it was worth as he watched the muscles in Sid’s neck jump with effort.

“Shut up, I’m trying to focus,” Sid said, and pressed his lips together until they went white, his face going red and a vein popping in his forehead as the watermelon put up a good final effort, but ultimately gave under the pressure of Sid’s thighs with a satisfying audible _“crack”_ and a triumphant spurt of juice like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

Sid’s mouth turned into a surprised _“O”_ and Zhenya picked up the cracked shell, inspecting it, as Sid stared down at the wet pile of watermelon innards left between his splayed legs as if he hadn’t actually expected he’d be able to do it. He broke into a laugh and grinned up at Zhenya. _“Eat that,”_ he said and, well, that had been the challenge, hadn’t it?

Sid moved like he might try and get up but Zhenya grabbed him by the knee before he could. "Stop, let me take photo," he said, pushing Sid’s legs wider and leaning in to get a good angle. The wet black fabric clung to his thighs, riding up and exposing the soft, pale skin hidden from the sun where they always rubbed together, now wet with crushed watermelon and pink juice.

“What are you going to do with those?” Sid asked. His voice was thick, mouth as pink as the fruit. Leaning back further on his palms in the grass and making his delts look like bowling balls, Sid let Zhenya have access to do what he wanted.

“Don’t know yet,” Zhenya said. There was really no excuse for this many close-ups and Zhenya knew it, but Sid didn’t fight it, letting himself go pliant and spreading his thighs wider so Zhenya could get a good shot of the carnage.

Cupping the back of Sid’s thigh, Zhenya trailed a rivulet of juice back up towards Sid’s knee with his thumb, mesmerized. He ditched his phone, leaving it forgotten in the grass as he wiped more of Sid’s skin and sucked his thumb into his mouth.

Sid made a gargled sound above him but didn’t close his legs. “Are you going to eat it now?” he asked, and Zhenya gave a lazy half-shrug.

“Maybe save for later,” he said casually.

“G, that’s--”

Zhenya looked up through his eyelashes at Sid’s shiny, bright face. He’d pushed his cap off and his curls stuck to his forehead like they did after a game. “Don’t let it go to waste,” Sid whispered, his eyes molten dark.

Zhenya scooped up one knee and slowly, deliberately leaned down and licked up the inside of Sid’s thigh, cleaning up the mess. “Oh shit,” Sid sighed, his head tipping back to show off the thick column of his neck.

It felt filthy, following the mess down to where Sid’s skin met the wet fabric of his shorts. They looked tight around the crotch, and his package was like a perfectly contained and perched present between the sloppy splay of his legs. Zhenya nuzzled him there, over the bulge, and heard Sid suck in a stuttering breath above him. He felt the brush of Sid’s hand against the crown of his head as he reached into his shorts.

Leaning back, Zhenya watched with rapt attention as Sid pulled himself up against his stomach so the flushed red head of his cock poked out, straining against the waistband of his shorts. Running his thumb over it, Sid caught the bead of precome pearling there, coming away slick.

Zhenya pressed his palm to the hot line of Sid’s cock through the slippery fabric of his shorts and let Sid rut up into it. His head was cloudy with lust and he watched the exposed tip of Sid's cock give a valiant twitch in its constraints as another bead dewed at the slit. Sid rubbed against him unrestrained, his expression hazy and face blotchy red until he was panting. He looked as flushed and out of breath as when he had been trying to crack the watermelon between his thighs. Sid must have been getting close, rubbing the slick head of his cock against Zhenya’s palm and chewing his lip as he used Zhenya’s hand. His eyes pinched shut and Zhenya was tempted to let Sid just work himself towards orgasm but Zhenya took his hand away at the last second, leaving Sid grunting in protest. He had a better idea.

“Show me your cock,” he said, and Sid’s eyes slid half-open, flopping onto his back without protest and pushing his shorts down his hips. Zhenya helped him pull them over the bulk of his ass and thighs as Sid arched his spine away from the ground. Zhenya had never been so thankful for Sid’s love of flip-flops as he tossed the shorts away easily.

Zhenya smoothed his palm up the arc of Sid’s stomach and exposed skin as his shirt rucked up. Sid’s cock was hardened into a lovely curve against his belly. Zhenya knew Sid kept things neat, but it was a totally different experience looking down and seeing tender pale skin and a tight, clean patch of hair over his pubic bone. Zhenya wanted to bury his face there and bask in the taste of him mixed with sweat and suck down the thick weight of him, sticky sweet with watermelon juice. But Zhenya had an even better idea.

Pulling off Sid’s shorts had cleaned things up further, but Zhenya wouldn’t need any help with getting him messy again. He spotted a cracked piece of watermelon shell the size of his palm, thick wet flesh still clinging to the inside of it, and before Sid could protest, Zhenya dragged it from the base of Sid’s cock to the tip.

Sid yelped, hips bucking up. “That’s cold,” he complained, eyes wide in surprise.

“Sorry,” Zhenya muttered, not feeling very sorry at all. Sid’s core and thighs were strong, and Zhenya struggled to keep his hips pinned to the ground as he rubbed the piece up and down the underside of Sid’s cock, slowly, watching Sid’s eyelids flutter shut and his mouth twist back into that surprised _“O”_ at how good it felt, how good Zhenya was making him feel.

Sid’s stomach muscles clenched and rolled as he got close and started pushing his hips into it. Zhenya dragged the piece of watermelon up, rubbing in circles over the tender hidden folds below the head of Sid’s cock and watched as his chest compressed tight, stealing the air from his body. Sid’s eyebrows furrowed as his soft huffing noises stuttered and he let out a low guttural moan, back bowing, and the head of his cock twitched as he spurted against his stomach and the piece of fruit.

Zhenya pulled the melon away so he could watch Sid’s cock throb, growing soft and smeared with bits of crushed watermelon and his own release. He couldn’t help himself and bent to lick over the rolls of Sid’s stomach and down between his legs, getting a taste the way he’d wanted to.

Fumbling to get himself out of his own shorts, Zhenya’s cock felt heavy and hot in his own hand, skin aching as it flexed, ready to come _now_.

Apparently lucid again, Sid grabbed the backs of his own thighs. “You want the whole fruit basket?” Sid snickered and Zhenya groaned in emotional agony and arousal. Sid was cheesy and horrible and Zhenya liked him so much it made him shivery and nervous with excitement. He _did_ want the whole fruit basket and he was too horny with stupidity to care that Sid just meant his fruit-flavoured undercarriage.

Zhenya sucked the mess from the soft shape of Sid’s cock, being careful with the sensitive flesh. Some of it had dripped down behind Sid’s balls and Zhenya mouthed them a bit, enjoying the way the skin felt in his mouth and how Sid whined above him.

The real prize was right beneath there, the smooth, tender skin of his taint. Sid had basically been sitting in the remnants of the watermelon’s innards and Zhenya sucked on the wet skin, right above where he knew the hidden tight pink of Sid’s hole lived.

 _“Oh,”_ and _“Geno,”_ Sid moaned, all high and tight, his thighs clamping down around Zhenya’s ears, pressure around his skull. He was never going to be able to use Sid’s pool again without remembering what it was like to eat watermelon off Sid’s taint, but he’d be happy to go like that, smothered between Sid’s thick legs.

Sid’s fingers knotted in his hair, pushing his head down and tugging like he wasn’t sure if it was too much, but was happy to just put Zhenya where he wanted.

Zhenya pushed up, making the decision for him. His cheeks and mouth felt sticky in the hot air, covered in juice, and Sid looked pliant and worked over, and _glossy_ —“Put your arms behind your head,” Zhenya said, voice rough, close to the tipping point.

Sid followed his instructions, resting his head in his palms, the position making the muscles in his arms bunch up nicely. “You like that?” Sid asked, voice unfairly breathy and satisfied sounding.

Zhenya nodded dumbly. He liked Sid’s big thighs, and his big body, and his dumb smiling face and his arms that looked like cantaloupes.

“Flex,” he ordered, and Sid did, his corded arms bulging obscenely. Zhenya’s hand sped up, feeling himself getting wetter at the sight of Sid spread out for him like a slutty buffet.

Sid’s cock was looking fluffed and almost interested again like he was getting off on Zhenya’s blatant appreciation of him, the smug asshole. Zhenya’s cock dripped in his hand. He felt rigid, so ready to come it was almost painful. He leaned forwards, bracing his hand on one of Sid’s biceps, gripping the meat of it and pinning him down. Watching Sid’s face grow soft and slack like this, it was easy to imagine this was what he’d look like after coming on Zhenya’s dick. Body locking up, Zhenya pumped himself inelegantly and rubbed off onto the wet mess of Sid’s stomach as his orgasm shuddered through him.

He worked himself gently, cooling down, waiting until the rush of blood died down in his ears to crack his eyes open. Sid was watching him with an assessing expression on his face, like he was fitting Zhenya into a new box in his head. Zhenya wasn’t sure what that box would be labelled. _“Is willing to get off with fruit”_ was a compelling option, but he hoped it was something deeper than that.

Zhenya pushed away from him and groaned, “My back hurts.”

Sid chuckled, pushing himself up on his elbows, lying half-naked in the grass in his backyard and shameless. “You’re an old man,” he said, unapologetic.

Zhenya accepted that. “You need to get a porch swing, they’re very cozy,” he said, tucking his dick back in his shorts and sitting back on his heels, stretching showily.

“I think I could make that happen,” Sid said, eyes softening. He stood up and gave Zhenya a hand, trailing his fingers down the side of Zhenya’s face when they were both standing. Sid wiped carefully at Zhenya’s mouth, making his heart clench, and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss to his lips before pulling away with a smile to say: “Told you I’d crush it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Happy belated Canada day!


End file.
